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SISTER DEVOTER
As she passed the piss-buckets and shite-styes of the Guardpost on the Wall, she received jeers from the bored and lonely Guards who were strewn about the place, in various states of disrepair. She ignore them, a woman with purpose, and climbed the steps to where Smithy Colefitch, Captain of the Guard, stood boldly with one foot on the crenelated wall, his arms folded and resting on his knee. He looked round as he sensed her approaching.
"Sister Devoter. What can I do for you?"
She looked sheepishly at him, eyes shaded as she spoke, "I had another vision, Sir."
"So? Don't you always have visions?" The sun was almost shining that day; that is to say, the sun tried to shine, but got choked by the layers of shit-covered atmospheres. It was more accurate to say it was brighter this day than the majority of days, and to leave it at that.
"True, Sir, but this was different."
Colefitch turned then, intrigued, "How so? Spit it out."
"I see a future that is preventable." Sister Devoter moved under the short roofed shelter, big enough for a chair of sorts, a table, which was actually an upturned box and one person sitting. She kept away from the edge, perhaps because she was fearful of heights; perhaps because she knew something Colefitch didn't.
"So? What's so different about that?" Colefitch picked up a broken piece of Nearly-Bread from his plate and chewed at it. This kind of food desired saliva to break it down. Without it, and if he stupidly attempted to swallow, he would likely cut his own throat.
Sister Devoter wiped away an imaginary fleck from her long, practical and dowdy dress, "They are usually - simple, Sir."
“Explain?" muffled Colefitch, still working away at that food.
"They are simple, every-day activities that come to pass in the passage of time, and manifest in the present. Tedious in nature, they present no moral turpitude or aggrievement, Sir."
"And this one does? Are you sure?" said Colefitch, attempting a swallow, failing and coughing it back up. Embarrassed about being almost beaten by a bit of Nearly-Bread, he continued chewing.
"Sir, I was born with the foresight. I am like the blind, born without knowledge of vision. I know nothing other than it, and I know and understand the subtleties of it. I am too long in the tooth to misinterpret what I see."
"So what does the vision show? If it be that important?"
Sister Devoter looked deep into Colefitch's eyes. There was an intelligence there, but there was also a stubbornness, "Sir, I am apprehensive to say -"
"For what reason?"
"That you may not like it." she expressed.
"So it's about me then?" said Colefitch, standing suddenly. Just as suddenly he forgot how to chew.
"Well, yes. It is Sir."
Colefitch grabbed her then, firmly by the shoulders. She seemed undaunted, despite his vigorous shaking, "When? When is this going to happen? Tell me?"
"They are visions, Sir. They do not come with a time stamp, only that they will come to pass." she tried. He was beginning to hurt her.
"So why tell me? Why not leave me in ignorance?"
"Because, Sir, I do not know if the future I see can be changed. I have never tried."
"So I won't -"
"Die, Sir? I do not know, for certain, but certainly within the vision."
"How?" he shook her again and her teeth began to rattle.
"I -"
"You have to tell me now! If I have a chance -"
With some effort, she eventually wriggled out of his grasp, but Colefitch was no less vehement, "There is only one chance, Sir. You must leave the open air. You must burrow underground."
"And how do I do that, pray?"
"I don't know, Sir. But it is the only way to prevent your death." said Sister Devoter, rubbing her thin arms where bruises were beginning to appear, "We all die, Sir. It is how we live that defines us."
Colefitch grabbed his chest dramatically while employing the other hand in dropping to the crenelated wall. With feigned effort, he staggered over to where Sister Devoter sat, "I think I'm having a panic attack. Move, so I can sit down. What's that look on your face? It's here, isn't it? It's here, on this seat I die! Don't just nod, woman! Speak!"
"Yes Sir. You look like this, in this position, as you -"
Colefitch waved her words away, "Okay, I changed my mind, I don't want to know how I die. I must come to terms with the knowledge of my imminent termination first!"
"As you wish, Sir." shrugged Sister Devoter, turning as to leave.
"Again with the face, Sister! You are beginning to vex me!" Out came the dangerous, waggling finger of doom.
"I am sorry, Sir. I cannot help what my face does."
"Well, you better start learning, or you're going to die long before I do!" said Colefitch, rising partially from his seat.
Sister Devoter gave a curt nod, "My apologies."
"So what do you suggest?" asked Colefitch, to the world at large.
Sister Devoter shook her head, "I am not a tactician -"
"Right now, neither am I. I'm an old man crapping myself at the thought of my imminent death."
"The attack comes from the East."
"Right - East. Okay." nodded Colefitch, a finger to his mouth in thought, his eyes to the planks of wood that constituted the floor, but not looking at them, just a spot above them, in a contemplative stare.
"They do expel much fire in the first ten seconds, if that's relevant?"
"They? Relevant? It's damned near necessary! What else?"
"I do not know, Sir." said Sister Devoter.
"Numbers? I don't know, uhm, colour of underwear? How the Hell should I know what else? Sorry, not got over that death thing just yet."
"All I know is their number is few. I only see my visions from a certain perspective. I cannot manipulate the vision, nor walk about in it. It is static, but animated, like real life." explained Sister Devoter.
Colefitch tapped his foot to give rhythm to his thoughts, "I wish we knew the timetable of this attack. Now, of course, I've got to prepare the men for this. It's going to be difficult. Most of them are old-school and untrusting of the new science, like Seers. Still, better than sitting on my arse, waiting to die, I suppose?"
"I do not know what else I can tell you, Sir. I will return to my bunk -" Sister Devoter was already halfway down the wooden stairs when Colefitch ran down to catch her.
"Oh, no! Hold on! You're coming with me! It's the only way they'll believe me. It'll sound like utter madness otherwise?”
"Sir -"
"I mean, who in their right mind would accept the word of someone who heard something from someone who sees the future? And I mean, who knows the future? It hasn't happened yet! How can you know something for definite that hasn't happened yet?!" Colefitch dragged Sister Devoter back up the stairs reluctantly by her forearm.
"But what I see always -" she tried, struggling against his grip.
"Look! I'm all worked up, mainly because some old woman tells me I'm going to die," Colefitch sighed and sat back down, "In this chair I'm sitting in now? I mean, how absurd is that? Really?!"
"Sir?"
"I don't know what I was thinking! Wow, how gullible was I? Just like that, I believed you! Can you believe it? Because apparently I can! This is so - I don't know what!" Colefitch looked to his invisible friend for confirmation, that friend everyone seems to find, standing by them who they ask questions of.
"Sir, its time -" said Sister Devoter, stepping slowly away to a point she apparently knew was where she should stand.
"As if it was possible? To see into the future, as though it was the present? It defies logic, to the nth degree! Okay, okay. I'm calm again. Right, where was I before you, you absurd woman, came onto my wall and interrupted me? Oh, that's right. I think I was -" Colefitch threw his arms wide in grasping for the words.
"Sir? They are coming -" but Sister Devoter was cut short as a hail of projectiles came over the wall. One large spike thumped hard into Colefitch's chest, taking him through the shelter, crashing to the ground twenty feet below. His head hit first, smashing like a melon dropped from a window.
"Oh - well, never mind then," said Sister Devoter looking down at the body of Smithy Colefitch with certainty and knowledge of forethought, "Rest in peace, Sir?"
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